


a truth in the blood

by angstinspace



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, M/M, Missing Scene, Post-Episode: s02e08 The Blade of Marmora, broganes, klance, they talk about their feelings idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 14:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10026671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstinspace/pseuds/angstinspace
Summary: “I’m Galra, Lance.”It's the first time he's said those words out loud––and to Lance of all people. He should feel horrified at himself but somehow, he doesn't. In fact, an eerie calmness has settled over him. Everything comes sharply into focus as he stands there, still holding Lance's wrist, breathing in and out, waiting for a response.A post "Blade of Marmora" fix-it fic. Mostly broganes & klance bonding.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so! This is a post-s2e08 fix-it fic/missing scene kinda thing. Mostly I just wanted to explore Keith dealing with finding out he's Galra, and I wanted to write some angsty Klance Bonding with a little broganes thrown in. 
> 
> This is mostly canon compliant, with just a few little things changed for the sake of writing what I wanted to write. :P 
> 
> Thank you to @221bdisneystreet and @mreblip who beta-read this for me, y'all are amazing. <3
> 
> Title comes from "To The Blade" by Everything Everything (which is a total Keith song)

Space is infinite. Keith knows that, of course. It’s something he’s known since he was a kid, running a finger over glossy textbook pages, wide eyes soaking in staticky documentaries. In some ironic way, it’s the only thing he’s ever known for certain: that the universe has no limits. 

He always dreamed he would find himself out here––that he would learn something about himself hidden amongst the stars. In some ways, he has. In other ways, it’s like diving into an empty void––not unlike the twin black holes the Red Lion just leaped out of. 

He knows space is endless. But right now, it feels small.

The universe inside of him feels much more vast. Supernovas burst in his skull, galaxies collapse in his chest. Everything he thought he knew is spinning out of control, like planets flying out of orbit. 

The only thing grounding him is his hands at the controls, gripping a little more tightly than usual. Red plunges into the blackness ahead as she guides them back toward the castle. (Most of space is nothingness. A vacuum made mostly of dark matter.)

"Are you sure you don't want me to take over?"

Shiro's voice breaks through his daze, and Keith sits up straight in his seat. Now that the adrenaline is dying down, he becomes aware of every ache in his body––the pounding in his head, the bruises on his ribs, the warmth of blood seeping from the gash in his shoulder.

"No," he says without looking up. "I mean, yes. I'm sure."

"But you’re––" 

"Trust me, it's a bad idea. Red's not in the mood." 

As if she can hear Keith speaking about her (she probably can), Red growls. The sound rumbles through the cockpit, traveling up into Keith's legs through the floor. He winces. 

This whole telepathic-robot-lion-connection thing is still pretty new to him, but he knows something isn't quite right. He's never felt Red like this before. So ... possessive. Unstable. Furious. 

Keith dimly remembers lying on the floor and being torn back into awareness by the sound of crumbling walls around him. He could hear Red roaring, so loudly it made his ears ring. At that moment, their connection grew so intense that in his half-awake state he wasn't sure which one of them was which––where he ended and she began, whether he was lying in the midst of destruction or causing it.

Even now that he's safe, Red's fury burns so fiercely that Keith shakes with it. She never wants to let him out of her sight again. She swears that if anyone so much as touches him, she'll kill them, she'll kill them.

Tears burn at the corner of Keith's eyes, and he turns his head so Shiro won't see. 

_It's okay, Red. I'm sorry. I didn't want to scare you like that._

He hadn’t known that Red was even capable of being frightened this way. Even when the two of them went up against Zarkon by themselves, he hadn’t sensed any fear in her––just the usual anger and defiance, multiplied tenfold.

Ever since he first bonded with Red, he’s struggled to comprehend where their relationship fell. It’s not the warm friendship between Lance and Blue, the steadfast loyalty between Shiro and Black, or the easygoing camaraderie Hunk and Pidge have with Yellow and Green.

Red is not one who trusts easily––that’s something she and Keith have in common. Although she chose him, there’s always been a certain tension to their dynamic, a barrier that’s kept them from becoming as close as the other paladins are with their lions. 

What Keith felt from Red today was something new: a fierce protectiveness, a willingness to put herself at risk to save her paladin from harm. Keith always knew they were connected, but this is the first time he’s ever really, truly believed it. 

And she knows. Keith feels their thoughts channeling together with an intensity that makes him dizzy (although that could also be from exhaustion, blood loss, and hitting his head on the floor).

She knows everything.

Perhaps she knew even before he did. She saw the war inside him, as he chased after a truth he was also desperate to escape. Now there’s no possibility of turning back. His greatest fear has unmasked itself, and now it clings to him like the itching, unfamiliar bodysuit he’s still wearing. 

_Galra blood runs through your veins._

Red senses his fear and she purrs, sending waves of reassurance through him. She doesn’t care. She knew what he was, and she chose him anyway.

Despite everything, some of the tightness in Keith's chest ebbs away. He's spent night after night drifting in and out of nightmares about Red rejecting him, turning him away when she found out the truth. But knowing now that she still accepts him––and not only that, but that she'll risk anything to defend him––makes breathing a little easier right now. 

His hands loosen around the controls. _Thanks, Red._

The relief is only temporary, though. It's starting to sink in that somehow, Keith will have to tell the rest of the team. 

The thought makes his throat close up. Even if Red is on his side, it doesn't change the fact that he's Galra. He's related to the enemy they're fighting against. The team may not trust him because of that, and they have a right not to. He knows this, and yet the notion of it feels like an avalanche coming down on him.

He's spent most of his life alone. Abandoned by his parents. Tossed from one home to the next without ever feeling like he belonged anywhere. Ironically, he finally found a sense of belonging up in space, in a castle hurtling at lightspeed through the universe. He found six people––the other paladins, Allura, Coran––who he actually connected with, who he actually cared about. 

Now there's a very real chance that he'll lose them. That he'll lose everything. 

Suddenly he's back in the desert again, the sky empty above him, his hands in the dust. Up in space, he doesn't even have his shack to return to. If they reject him––or if he runs away before they even find out the truth––he'll truly have nothing. 

It doesn't help that Shiro has barely said a word since he dragged Keith into the Red Lion. He's offered a few times now to pilot, insisting Keith is in no condition to be flying. But even though he's probably right, Keith won't give up the controls. As he tried to explain to Shiro, his connection with Red is way too strong at the moment. 

Now Shiro stands silently behind the pilot's seat, his human hand clamped to the back of it. In the corner of his vision, Keith can see Shiro's prosthetic hand clenching into a fist and releasing again.

A heaviness settles in Keith's stomach, because he knows what Shiro is going through. Coming into any contact with the Galra is difficult for him, to say the least. It's not exactly easy being around the same alien race that held you captive, tortured you, cut off your limb, and made you shed blood for sport. Keith knows it must be painful for Shiro now that they're trying to form alliances with the Galra, but it must be even worse for him to find out his best friend is one of those aliens, too. 

Keith is still dazed from the trials, but he's comprehended by now that the person he talked to back at the base was not the real Shiro, but just a hologram, a hallucination meant to test him. Still, he knows Shiro was watching the whole thing, and he wonders whether he heard everything Keith said. 

_"Shiro, you're like a brother to me."_

He almost wants to say it again, even if Shiro heard it the first time.

Instead, he says, "I didn't know, Shiro."

Next to him, Shiro stiffens. Keith doesn't look at him. Can't.

"I believe you."

His response is just those three calculated words. It's not necessarily forgiving, just an acceptance that Keith didn’t lie to him. He just never knew the truth. Not the whole thing, anyway. But there were still things Keith hid from Shiro that he probably shouldn’t have, suspicions he could have shared but never dared to voice. 

"How am I going to tell everyone?" 

The words come out before Keith can stop them. He stares at the control panel in front of him, his vision going blurry at the fringes. 

Shiro sighs. "It's up to you. You don't have to tell them right away."

Keith holds back a scoff. This isn't exactly a piece of information he can hide for long. Everyone's going to start asking questions as soon as they get back to the castle. 

“Anyway, they'll understand.” Now Shiro's voice is softer, going into that typical older-brother mode that usually calms Keith down. “They’re your friends, Keith. They’re not going to see you differently just because of … this.”

“But what about you?” Keith blurts out, finally turning around to face him. “Do you … see me differently?” 

He knows it's not a fair question and it's probably not the right time to ask it, but there's no taking it back now. The words already hang in the air between them, and Keith pins Shiro with a challenging stare as he waits for an answer.

Shiro's expression remains carefully neutral. "I don't know what to tell you, Keith," he says.

That isn’t quite the response Keith was hoping for.

_I want you to tell me everything's okay,_ he wants to say. _I want you to tell me this doesn't change anything._

_I want you to lie._

"I mean, I can't say that I saw it coming," Shiro continues, stumbling over his words––and that's somewhat alarming, coming from someone who usually knows exactly what to say. "But that doesn't mean I don't trust you. You know I do."

Keith wants to feel reassured, but he only feels numbness. He doesn't know whether Shiro genuinely means what he said, or whether he's just trying to play his usual role as the voice of reason. 

"Hey," Shiro says, his features relaxing a bit. "I'm part Galra too, in a way." He holds up his metal hand with a humorless chuckle. "Doesn't stop the team from trusting me."

It's not really the same, but Keith is too tired to argue. With every passing second, his head aches more terribly and he wants to sleep for three days or so. He turns back to the control panel. Through the windshield, the white beacon of the castle appears in the distance.

Shiro goes to put his hand on Keith's shoulder like he usually does, but he stops when he sees the wound there. "Oh jeez, that doesn't look good."

"I'm fine," Keith mutters automatically, but he knows it will be useless against Shiro's overprotective-big-brother mode. 

Sure enough, Shiro lets out an exasperated sigh. "No, you're not. When we get back to the castle, you're getting straight into a healing pod." 

Keith fleetingly considers making an _“I can’t do anything straight”_ joke, but realizes now probably isn’t a good time.

In fact, he hasn't been able to joke with Shiro much at all since they became a part of team Voltron. In a weird way, Keith still misses Shiro even though he's standing right there. Things just aren't how they used to be. 

The silence stretches out between them. The castle looms closer, blindingly white against the blackness. 

"Keith, listen," Shiro says. "I don't know what that hologram said to you. But whatever it was ... you know that wasn't me, right?" 

Keith tenses at the memory, keeping his eyes fixed ahead. 

_"Then you've chosen to be alone,"_ Shiro’s voice echoes in his mind. 

"Yeah," he says quietly. "I know."

\--

They stand side-by-side in the maw of the Red Lion, as she slowly lowers them to the ground. In one hand Keith holds onto his newly awakened blade––which is surprisingly light for its size, but at the moment its weight seems greater by the second. 

Now that he's standing again, Keith is acutely aware of how much everything hurts. His shoulder is the worst part, throbbing in sync with his rapid heartbeat. Every muscle in his body is on fire. He's not sure he can even take a step out of the lion without collapsing. 

Shiro puts a hand on his back, but Keith shakes him off. "I told you, I'm okay." 

Even though Shiro must want to argue, he doesn't say anything. There's no time, anyway, because right then Red opens her jaws.

Bright light pours through the gap, making Keith's headache even worse. He stays back a moment before starting down the ramp after Shiro.

Almost as soon as they reach the floor, the sound of footsteps echoes through the hangar. Keith's eyes are still adjusting to the light, and his vision keeps blurring and focusing again. But he sees a group of figures rushing towards them, hears a jumbled mess of exclamations. 

"Keith! Shiro!" 

Hunk reaches them first, and Keith only has half a second to brace himself before a pair of strong arms squeeze around him, nearly picking him up off the floor. The pressure around his arms and ribs is so agonizing that spots dance in front of his eyes, but he finds himself leaning into the hug anyway. 

“Whoa, Hunk. Take it easy on him,” Shiro says.

“Oops. Sorry, sorry.” Hunk lets go, backing away. His smile drops. “Oh, man. Are you okay, Keith?”

"Fine," Keith says, although it comes out barely more than a wheeze. He tries to give Hunk a reassuring smile and probably fails, but Hunk still smiles back. 

The rest of the team hovers a few feet away. Keith's gaze flits over each of them in turn, but he can't quite look any of them in the eyes. Allura and Coran both stand tensely as if prepared to fight some unseen enemy. Pidge has her hands over her mouth. 

Lance maneuvers around Hunk and skids to a stop. “Keith,” he says, and Keith is shocked that his voice sounds close to breaking. He meets Lance’s gaze and finds an unexpected display of emotion there, something he can’t quite name. Concern? Confusion? In any case, Lance looks exhausted––his face drawn, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent than usual. 

It occurs to Keith that he doesn’t even know how long they’ve been gone. The trials really messed with his sense of time, and he’s not sure whether it’s been a few hours or a few days. 

He feels like he should say something, what with the way Lance is still staring at him, but he doesn’t know what. Something new burns in his veins. 

Lance frowns. “What are you _wearing_? And where’d you get that?” He points at the blade.

Just like that, the moment shatters. Keith doesn’t know what he expected, but somehow he feels disappointed. “Uh … Long story,” he mutters, looking away. 

Allura steps forward. "Shiro ..." she starts to say, and then gasps when she sees Keith. "What happened?"

Keith's jaw clenches and he stares at the floor. 

"There's a lot to explain," Shiro says. "But first, we should really get Keith to a healing pod." 

“I can see that.” Allura looks back and forth between them. “What about you, Shiro? Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Listen––” 

“I knew we shouldn’t have trusted them,” Allura cuts him off. Despite the venom of her words, her voice wavers slightly. She was worried, Keith realizes. “I shouldn’t have let you go down there …”

“Hold on. I know this doesn’t look good, princess. But we have to trust the Blade.” 

“Are you serious?” Pidge steps up next to Allura, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her eyes flash behind her glasses. “We thought something terrible had happened to you guys.”

The princess crosses her arms. “I have to agree with Pidge. I normally trust your judgement, Shiro, but I don’t know about this. You return from the base with Keith injured, and you expect us to trust the people who hurt him?”

“It’s not that simple,” Keith says, and immediately everyone looks up at him. His face burns and his ears roar, but he manages to look up at all of their shocked expressions. “It’s … It was my fault. They told us to come unarmed, and I didn’t. I had my knife with me.” 

“Keith,” Allura starts to say in an admonishing tone. 

“I know,” he interrupts her. “I shouldn’t have brought it, but I just … I couldn’t leave it behind.” He knows that’s not a good explanation, but the real reason is far too personal for him to share. He doesn’t think he can explain how much the blade means to him, how it’s the only remnant of his family he has left. 

Allura raises an eyebrow. “So they attacked you merely because you brought a weapon?”

“No, it wasn’t just that. I …” Keith sways for a moment as another wave of dizziness passes over him. He’s finding it more and more difficult to stay upright, but he forces himself to continue speaking. “They had some information I wanted, and they told me I had to fight for it. It was a sort of test. To prepare me for what we’ll be up against.” 

“What sort of information was it?” Allura demands.

At that, Keith falls silent. The rushing in his ears worsens, and the edges of his vision are going dark. 

“Information about Zarkon,” Shiro says quickly, covering for him. “They may know something we don’t.”

“Well, did you find out what it was?”

Shiro hesitates. “Not exactly.”

"Wait a moment." Allura rubs at her temples. "I don't understand. You put Keith in mortal danger to get information that you didn't even obtain?"

"Don't blame Shiro," Keith says, although he can barely manage to speak at this point. "It was my own choice. He told me not to do it, and I chose to anyway."

"No," says Shiro. "Allura's right, Keith. I know how much you wanted to do the trials and how much it meant to you, but … I was the adult in the situation and I'm the leader and ... I put you at risk. I put the whole team at risk––because if anything had happened to either of us, there wouldn't be a team Voltron anymore. And I know you're a good fighter, but you're just a kid, and I shouldn't have let you go up against those men. I'm sorry."

The words all come tumbling out of him at once, and Keith knows Shiro was probably holding them back this whole time. He hates to see Shiro trying to take all the blame for this situation, but that's just like him. He's trying to be a good leader. 

All at once, that brings Keith back to their conversation on the way to the base, all those things Shiro said about Keith becoming the leader one day. The thought feels worse than any physical blow he endured during the trials––not just the fear of something happening to Shiro, but the realization that he could never do what Shiro is doing right now.

He wants to prove himself wrong. He wants to say he's sorry too, he wants to say it was his own fault. But everyone is looking at him and he can't tell them the whole truth and it's too much, too much ...

If there was any opportunity to say something, it's gone. Shiro has turned away from him to speak to Allura again. “I’m sorry, princess. I shouldn’t have let this situation get so out of hand, and I’m sorry we didn’t get the information we wanted. But at the very least, I do think we managed to gain the trust of the Blade. Their leader, Kolivan, wants to meet with you––but I wanted to consult with you, first …” 

Shiro and Allura keep talking back and forth, but Keith can no longer understand a word either of them is saying. Everything sounds muffled. Cold sweat runs down the back of his neck and the floor feels like it's heaving underneath him.

He's distantly aware of his fingers going slack around the handle of the blade, he hears it clattering to the ground. Someone says his name. And––

The next thing he knows, there's a pair of arms supporting him, linked under his armpits. His face is crushed against someone's chest. Voices break through the high-pitched ringing in his head. He can't quite make out what they're saying, but they all sound rushed and frantic. 

The person holding him says, "Keith?" 

He groggily lifts his head and blinks up at the surprised face of ... Lance.

_Shit._

Keith manages to regain his footing and tries to step back––but the world pitches around him and he grabs at Lance's jacket for support. It occurs to him suddenly that the rest of the team is gathered close around them. 

"What ... What just happened?" he says.

"You kinda just passed out on me, dude," Lance answers. "Are you okay?"

"Uh ..." Keith's mouth is really dry and the lights make his eyes hurt. "I don't ... feel great," he admits, which is the closest he'll get to saying he feels like he's dying.

"He really should get into a healing pod," Pidge says. 

"Yeah, man. That's a lot of blood," Hunk chimes in, staring at Keith's wounded shoulder like he hadn't noticed it until now.

Someone puts a hand on his back, and Keith looks up to see Shiro standing next to him. "They're right, Keith. You need to get some rest." 

Keith wants to point out that Shiro should probably rest, too, but he’s too exhausted to argue right now. He just nods.

“Lance,” Shiro says, “can you take Keith to the pods?”

Suddenly, Keith is aware that he’s still holding onto the collar of Lance’s jacket and Lance is gripping his arms to hold him steady. The two boys look at each other, and Keith sees his own mortification reflected on Lance’s face. 

“Me? I mean, uh. Yeah, sure,” Lance stammers. 

Shiro places a hand on Keith’s uninjured shoulder. “I’m gonna stay here for a few minutes and talk to the princess.” He gives Keith a meaningful look, and Keith knows what he’s trying to convey: that he’s not going to tell her everything just yet. “I’ll check on you as soon as I can, okay?”

It’s not like it makes a huge difference to Keith because he’ll be in cryostasis, but it’s still a small comfort to know Shiro will be there. “Thanks, Shiro.” He manages a tired smile, which Shiro returns. 

“Okay, well … let’s go, I guess,” says Lance. He slings one of Keith’s arms around his shoulders, and loops one of his own arms around Keith’s waist. 

Normally Keith would protest or at least have the energy to feel embarrassed, but not right now. He’s still dizzy, and he doesn’t trust himself to walk on his own. 

They start to make their way out of the hangar. Coran walks next to them for a few paces, wringing his hands. “Will you be needing any assistance, Lance? Those old cryopods can be a bit finicky.”

“Nah, I got it. How long should he be in there for?”

“The pod should calculate it automatically, but I’d imagine it’ll take about seven vargas for him to fully heal. Of course, you can come find me if you need any help.”

“All right. Thanks, Coran.”

Lance is surprisingly quiet once they reach the hallway. Normally it doesn’t feel like a very long walk, but right now the corridor seems to stretch out for miles. They inch forward, Lance guiding the way and Keith stumbling next to him. He tries not to lean on Lance too much, but at this point he doesn't really have a choice; his legs can barely support him.

At last, they reach the elevator and Lance presses the button. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t break this time,” he mutters as the doors slide open.

Once they’re inside and the doors have shut again, Keith slips his arm from around Lance’s shoulders and leans on the wall. The machinery in the wall hums against his back, and the floor jolts as the elevator starts to move upward.

Lance stays next to him, so close that their shoulders almost touch. He tilts his head back and rubs his hands over his face, sighing deeply. 

Maybe it’s because he’s concussed or something, but Keith can’t seem to stop watching him. He clears his throat. “You okay, Lance?”

“What? Am I okay?” Lance turns to look at him in incredulity. “I’m not the one dripping blood all over the floor.”

It takes a second for Keith to process the words, and then he looks down to see the crimson splatters around his feet. He clamps a hand over his shoulder. “Shit.”

Lance shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. One of us can clean it up later.” He crosses his arms. There’s something guarded about his expression, about the stiff posture of his shoulders, like he’s trying to hold something back. 

“Do you want to talk about it? About what happened?” he finally asks.

The question catches Keith off-guard, and he blinks at Lance in surprise. Then he realizes he’ll actually have to give some kind of answer. As he tries to think of what to say, everything hits him at once: a landslide of images and words and emotions. A dam opens in his chest. He wishes he could explain it all, but no words come out.

The elevator comes to a stop, and the doors open with a hiss. Neither of them moves. Keith keeps staring at the floor, internally battling with the sudden rush of questions, memories, more questions. Another drop of blood hits the white tiles.

“Okay,” Lance says, pushing himself away from the wall. “I guess you’re gonna tell us all later.”

“Wait.” Keith grabs Lance’s wrist to stop him. His head reels and stars bloom in the corners of his vision. 

Lance is frozen, staring at Keith’s hand on his arm and then looking up at his face again. “What is it? Are you gonna pass out again? ‘Cause man, I don’t think I could carry––”

“I’m Galra, Lance.”

It's the first time he's said those words out loud––and to _Lance_ of all people. He should feel horrified at himself but somehow, he doesn't. In fact, an eerie calmness has settled over him. Everything comes sharply into focus as he stands there, still holding Lance's wrist, breathing in and out, waiting for a response. 

Lance's face remains blank. A frown crosses his features, then the corner of his mouth quirks up in a momentary, uncertain smile. "You ... what? Dude, you're hurt pretty bad. I think you're––"

"I'm serious." Keith keeps staring at him, trying to gauge his reaction––but as usual, Lance is difficult to read. 

One moment passes and then another. Lance's arm remains stiff in Keith's iron grip. He hasn't moved except to turn his head slightly, still staring at Keith out of the corner of his eye. 

At last, he lets out a long breath and gently pries his wrist out of Keith's grasp. "Okay, okay. Hold on a second." He glances over his shoulder at the open elevator doors, into the empty control room behind them. Then he presses a button on the wall and the doors slide shut again, secluding them from the rest of the castle.

The silence suddenly seems even more absolute. Keith's head pounds. It's starting to dawn on him what he's just done. Or ... did he? Was he hallucinating? Because Lance is being oddly quiet, not lashing out or confronting him or doing anything Keith expected him to do.

They stand without saying anything. Lance looks Keith up and down, as if searching for evidence of his claims. 

"So, uh," he says at last, scratching the back of his head, "do you want to like ... elaborate on that?"

This has to be a dream or something. Everything feels surreal and detached, like Keith is watching it all through someone else's eyes. This shouldn't be happening. Of all the people he could have confessed to, why Lance?

But it's too late to question it, and now Lance is standing there waiting for an explanation.

"I don't know," Keith says. "I ... I wish I could explain it. But you know that knife I carry? It has the Blade of Marmora's symbol on it. And somehow I awakened it? Which is how it turned into that sword thing. They told me that was only possible if I have Galra blood. What does that even mean?" 

He's starting to ramble, and the rush of memories makes him a little dizzy again. He grips at the rail on the wall next to him. 

"Whoa. Take it easy, Keith." Lance takes a step forward, frowning. "Look, you don't have to talk about it right now if it's too––"

"No, I'm okay. I just ... I need to make sense of it all."

"Okay," Lance says, rubbing at his forehead. He paces back a couple steps. "Okay. So ... Galra blood, huh? Does that mean you're only like ... part Galra?"

"No idea. All I know is that the knife belonged to my mom, and it had the Blade's symbol on it, and ... yeah, this whole 'Galra blood' thing."

Lance's eyes go wide. "Wait, your mom? Was she ... I mean ..."

"Galran? I don't know." Keith looks away, rubbing at his arm. "I don't remember her."

"Huh," Lance murmurs. He leans back against the closed elevator doors. "Okay. That's like, pretty cool, though. If your mom was some kinda badass Galra rebel or something, I mean."

Keith glares at him. "This is serious, Lance."

"Hey, I _am_ being serious!"

"And that's all you have to say? That it's 'cool' if my mom was an alien?"

Lance throws his hands in the air. “What do you _want_ me to say? You just told me out of nowhere that you’re part alien … How am I supposed to react?” 

The answer doesn't come as automatically as Keith thought it would. What _does_ he want Lance to say? Honestly, he expected a huge outburst––an explosion of incredulity, maybe even rage. He expected Lance to emote as passionately as he typically does. Something Keith has never been good at doing. Something he wishes he could do right now. 

"I don't know," he admits quietly. "I ... don't know."

He can't stand up anymore, and he slides down until he's sitting on the floor with his head slumped against the wall. 

"Whoa, whoa. Keith?" Lance is suddenly crouching in front of him. "Are you okay? Should I go get––"

"No," Keith cuts him off. "Don't ... leave." It takes monumental effort to say those two words, but it's worth the momentary humiliation. The last thing he wants is to be alone right now. 

"O-Okay," Lance stammers. "I won't."

He sits back, crossing his legs. The two of them just sit there facing each other. Keith takes deep breaths in through his nose and exhales them through his mouth––a technique Shiro taught him a couple years ago, something to help him ground himself when he feels like everything is spiraling out of control. 

Lance clears his throat. "Still doing okay?"

"Yeah," Keith says hoarsely. He can't seem to say anything else. 

"I'm sorry," says Lance.

At that, Keith lifts his head. Lance isn't looking at him, just staring intently at the floor and fidgeting with one of his own shoelaces. 

"For what?"

"For ..." Lance shrugs. "I just mean, I'm sorry about all you must've gone through. That information you wanted––what you had to fight the Blade for … It was about your family, wasn't it?" 

Surprised, Keith nods. But then again, he realizes it's not all that shocking that Lance figured it out. He's always been observant, quick to piece things together. 

"And you didn't find out anything?"

"Nothing besides what I already told you. At one point, I ... They sort of gave me a choice, between finding out the truth about myself and being a paladin. And I couldn't just abandon the team like that." 

He can't say anything more, not when he's already on the verge of breaking down. The shock of seeing his father's face––the pain of turning his back, when his dad abandoned him the same way––is still a fresh wound. 

"Keith," Lance says, and there's a pained disbelief to his tone that Keith wasn’t expecting. “You mean, you chose us? Over finding out who you are?” 

Keith pauses. He hadn’t really thought of it that way. “Well, yeah. I had to. Or … you know. You guys wouldn’t be able to form Voltron anymore.”

“But what about your family?” Lance blurts out. “You’re not gonna try to find them?”

Keith feels a spark of anger before he realizes Lance isn’t trying to accuse him of anything. He’s watching Keith with an almost worried expression, his eyes wide. And suddenly, Keith understands. 

“Listen, it’s not like with you and your family,” he tries to explain. “I know you’re really close with them. It’s not like that for me. Like I said, I don’t even remember my mom. It was just me and my dad when I was a kid, and then … then he left, too. 

“I have no idea where either of my parents are. I don’t even know if they’re still alive. Even if they are, it seems like neither of them wants anything to do with me.”

He can hear the bitterness seeping into his own voice, and he takes another deep breath. “If I’m not their priority, they’re not going to be mine. Maybe I’ll try to find them someday, but right now I have bigger responsibilities. I have to concentrate on being a paladin.”

Throughout this whole speech, Lance has remained unusually quiet. “Still,” he says at last, “that must have been a really tough choice.”

Keith can’t argue with that. He’s stuck in an internal loop, replaying the vision over and over again––his father’s strange calmness, the ominous image of the Galra army approaching, Red standing on a cliff miles away from him. He sees himself turning around and walking out the door. Giving up the one chance to know the truth. 

And then he’s standing in front of the hologram again, hearing Shiro’s words like a backhand across the face. _“You’re only thinking of yourself, as usual.”_ He knows he’s heard those same words before, and now it suddenly dawns on him where he heard them.

“Hey, Lance?”

The other boy looks up. “Yeah?”

“You know when Allura was captured, and I said it’d be a bad move to go rescue her … You told me I was only thinking about myself.”

Lance frowns. “Yeah, I remember. And I probably shouldn’t have said that. But, you know, it was an intense situation …”

“No,” Keith interrupts him. “I’m trying to tell you that you were right.” He huffs out a humorless laugh. “You’re always right about me. Like when Shiro and I were leaving on this mission, you said I was going to do something stupid. And you were right about that, too.”

“Keith …” 

“I can’t keep doing this, Lance. I keep throwing myself into these situations without even thinking, and I can’t seem to stop.” His hands knot into fists, and he feels a lump growing in his throat. “One of these days I’m gonna get someone else hurt, not just myself. And I––” 

“ _Keith_.” Lance’s hand shoots out and rests on Keith’s knee, shocking them both into silence.

Their eyes only meet for about half a second before Lance looks away. He quickly pulls his hand back, rubbing at his palm as if he burned himself. Keith can still feel the ghost of his touch, and without thinking he puts his own hand over the tingling spot. 

“Listen,” Lance says. “You can’t think like that. Everyone on the team has flaws. Even me––shocking, I know.”

Keith smirks. “I could name a few.”

“Very funny.” Lance rolls his eyes, but he also flashes a brief smile that makes Keith’s heart do something weird. (What the hell? He’ll have to think about this later.) 

“But seriously,” Lance continues. “You’re not selfish for wanting to find your family. Trust me, I’ve thought about leaving the team before. I’m sure we all have. I think about my family every day.”

That’s not quite something Keith can relate to––when he left Earth, he didn’t leave anyone he loved behind. The closest thing he’s ever had to family is Shiro, who’s up in space with him now. But still, he feels a painful twinge of empathy.

He’s seen the others struggle to choose between their families and their mission. He remembers how Pidge wanted to leave to find her father and brother, how he yelled at her because she was prioritizing herself over the team––and now he wishes he could take that back, because suddenly he knows it’s not that simple. 

By now, Lance’s smile has totally vanished. An unfamiliar darkness crosses his eyes before a determined spark drowns it out.

“Of course, saving the universe has to come first,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to have doubts. That’s a natural thing, you know? It’s what makes us human.” He gestures vaguely. “Or, uh, part human in your case, I guess.”

Keith almost laughs at that. Leave it to Lance to already be making jokes about this situation.

“In any case, we all make bad decisions. We all do stuff without thinking. And yeah, you might be reckless sometimes, but … that’s like, your thing. Your quintessence or whatever. You’re the red paladin––you have strong instincts, you take risks the rest of us wouldn’t take.”

As he speaks, Lance grows increasingly animated––eyes alight, hands moving. It occurs to Keith that it’s something he’s always admired, maybe something he’s even a little envious of: the ability to express enthusiasm with no abandon. 

“It might’ve been a close call this time,” Lance is saying now. “But I mean, you made it back. And from what Shiro said, it sounded like you guys earned the trust of the Blade––and that’s a pretty big deal.”

Keith realizes he’s staring at Lance, who is now staring back at him expectantly. He doesn’t know how to respond. He can’t think of a time Lance has said so many positive things about him in one breath, and it’s a lot to process. 

“Y-yeah, I guess so,” he stammers. He presses a hand over his injured shoulder again and winces. Hopefully the bleeding has almost stopped by now, but it still hurts like hell. 

“I just … I don’t know if the rest of the team will feel the same way,” he finally manages to say. “I mean, the Galra destroyed Allura and Coran’s entire planet. They took Pidge’s family, they took Shiro’s arm. And now every time they look at me they’re going to be reminded of … that.”

He feels out of breath by the time he finishes speaking, and he can’t even look up. His face burns. 

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Lance says. “That we’re going to kick you off the team?”

“Well … yeah. I thought you, of all people, would be in support of that.” 

Keith regrets the words as soon as he’s said them, and he regrets it even more when he sees the unexpected hurt on Lance’s face. He leans back from Keith as if dodging a physical attack. 

“Wait, what? You really think that?”

Now that he’s already said it, it’s not like Keith can take it back. He swallows. “Yes … ? We’re rivals. You’ve always hated me.”

“I … what? Dude, no.” Lance puts his face in his hands and groans before looking up at Keith again. “I don’t hate you.”

Truthfully, Keith has always suspected that––but still, to hear it out loud makes him feel like a huge weight has been lifted off him. “You don’t?”

“No. Why? Do you … hate me?”

“No,” Keith says a little too quickly, and then coughs. “I mean, you’re only a pain in the ass ninety percent of the time.”

“And the other ten percent?” 

Keith shrugs one shoulder. “You’re … tolerable.” 

“Oh wow, thanks,” Lance says sarcastically, but he’s smiling again––and this time, Keith finds he’s actually smiling back.

“But really,” Lance goes on, sobering again, “the team’s not going to abandon you. It’s not like you’ve shown any sign of betraying us. I mean, I know it’s not that simple, and I’m not saying it’s gonna be totally easy. But … we’ve already been through a lot together. We’ll get through this, too.”

He says this all with such sincerity, Keith finds himself speechless. He loses track of how long he's been silent, and his head feels fuzzier by the second.

Apparently it's too late to say anything, because Lance is already speaking again.

"You know, we had no idea what was going on down there. When you and Shiro were at the base, I mean. It was like, really intense. Maybe not as intense as whatever you were going through, but uh ... yeah. It was kind of scary, not being able to reach you guys or anything."

Keith is starting to feel pretty woozy again, but he still manages to process what Lance is saying. He watches as Lance rubs the heel of his hand against one eye, and he wonders how long he's been awake––how long both of them have been awake.

"We saw when Red started moving," Lance continues. "We could see she was destroying the base––which, you know, we figured was something she would only do if you were in trouble. Or if you were ..." He stops, glaring at the wall.

Suddenly, Keith understands.

The rest of the team thought they were dead.

It hadn’t even occurred to him until now––he was too caught up in his own inner turmoil. But for a moment, he tries to put himself in Lance’s shoes. He imagines the hours of helpless waiting, the horror of seeing Red start to attack.

And he starts to feel sick, because he knows that feeling all too well: the surreal, gut-wrenching sensation at the edge of loss––the moment when you realize you may have to accept a new, brutal version of reality. One where someone you cared about might be gone forever. 

He’s a little kid again, wondering when his father will come home.

He’s sitting in Iverson’s office. _“I’m afraid I have some terrible news, Kogane.”_

He sees Shiro’s face appear on the news over and over again. 

He’s standing in the castle control room on the night the bomb went off, watching the smoke clear to reveal Lance sprawled on the ground. 

He’s experienced it so many times. But somehow, Keith never thought anyone would feel that way––that anyone would _worry_ that way––about him. 

“I’m just saying,” Lance says, startling Keith out of his thoughts, “that I … I’m glad you’re okay.” He scratches his head. “And, you know. That the team wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Keith waits for there to be some kind of punchline, but apparently there isn’t one. 

His eyes sting. “Thanks, Lance.” 

“Yeah, uh. No problem.” Lance clears his throat and pauses for a moment before he gets to his feet. “So … we should probably actually get you to the healing pod.”

Keith makes a disgruntled noise.

"Right, you haven't ever been in one before, have you? It's not so bad."

Lance grins and offers his hand down to Keith, who takes it without hesitation. For a second he's reminded of when the roles were reversed––when Lance was the one injured on the floor and Keith was the one reaching for his hand. When Lance said they were a good team. Keith has doubted those words every once in a while ... but at least for now, he believes it. 

Everything else happens in a daze, like he's walking through a dream. He's aware of the spacious castle rooms, the endless view of stars through the glass. Outside, the universe extends into the unknown, into places he'll never see. He feels like his mind is floating away, like his soul is stretching thin as it tries to encompass everything at once. 

But something keeps pulling him back. A warm arm around his shoulders. A reassuring smile as he steps into the pod. 

As the white mist rises around him, all Keith can think is that he hopes it won't be like last time.

He hopes both of them remember this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! You can find me on Twitter (angst_in_space) and Tumblr (angst-in-space) if you wanna talk about voltron!


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